Of Doubts and Dreams
by CallOfBooty
Summary: On the eve of "Loose Ends", Roach is troubled by self-doubts and his conflicted desire to dream of a certain man. Mini-fic. Slash with an attempt at plot. Finished!
1. Dreams

"**Of Doubts and Dreams"**

*****CHAPTER ONE HAS BEEN REVISED WITH A NEW AND EXTENDED ENDING, AS INDICATED IN BOLD FONT! PLEASE READ!*****

**Update on Chapter 1 (1/17/10):**

_Yes, I've gone an made edits to this story. I didn't like how I set up chapter one and decided to ditch Roach's dream entirely. It was something I through-in last minute and now I realized it that didn't fit the direction I wanted to go in. There's also a few minor edits elsewhere in the beginning but the major change/additions are at the end of the chapter. The new stuff is highlighted in bold for easy reference. Overall, I feel that this new chapter flows better with chapter two... so, please let me know what you think, and thank you! =]_

A/N: Hi there. This is my first piece of Call of Duty fanfiction and first piece of FF in a VERY long time. In fact, over the years I mostly deleted all of my old stuff (probably for the best) from my early years in high school (I'm now a senior in college!). Anyway, I recently played the heck out of MW2 over my Christmas Break and quickly became addicted to the gameplay, story and attached to the characters (Especially Ghost [OMGSEXAYVOICE], Soap, and Dunn, but everyone loves them, right? Haha).

Anyway, I'm a bit intimidated posting this, having already read through several of the CoD Fanfics (mainly slash, and may I say... you're all so talented! *_*) I feel like my idea isn't particularly original or deep, but I hope some of you enjoy it nonetheless. Please let me know! Thank you!

PS: This is a mini-fic, I normally only intended three chapters but I might be able to stretch that out to five! And yes, it may start out rather innocent enough, but it's gonna get slashy. ;) You've been warned!

* * *

"There's an evil man hiding in these shadows and we're gonna bring him into the light."

Commander Shepherd's words resonated deeply within Gary "Roach" Sanderson of Task Force 141, who smiled grimly with satisfaction. _" 'Bout damn time." _

Makarov, the sonofabitch who single-handedly brought about the Russian attack on American soil, was finally going to get his just deserts. It had been a long, taxing road tracking him down, from the slums of Rio de Janerio to a Russian Gulag, Makarov's influence was widespread, making him a most difficult and elusive man to eliminate. Take Force 141 had suffered the loss of many good men in the pursuit of the bastard, and Roach was more than ready to avenge his brethren and start the end of the war.

Yet there was one setback. According to Shepherd, the intel revealed that Makarov was either in one of two places: his safehouse in the Caucasus Mountains or an old airplane junkyard in Afghanistan. Captain Price, however, assured Shepherd that the mission would not be beyond the capabilities of Task Force 141. The team would simply be divided and both points of interest would be attacked in one fell swoop.

Roach listened intently to the debriefing as Ghost spoke up.

"50/50 chance to take out Makarov, eh? Captain Price, request permission to take the safehouse with Roach."

"Granted." Price responded immediately, "Soap and I will take the boneyard in Afghanistan."

Roach stared at his Lieutenant, though he did not return the look.

_Ghost. Ghost request me? _

Roach blinked, yet no one took notice of his apparent confusion. This operation would be _big_ and there would be a lot at stake; there was simply no time to raise questions. Hell, Roach was ready for this and adrenaline momentarily pulsed through his body as he thought about the possibility of capturing the Russian bastard; payback on Makarov had been long overdue. Having the hard intel to finally shed light on the whereabouts of Makarov should have raised his spirits, but instead, complete elation avoided Roach.

No, what was really troubling him was that he couldn't help but feel that Ghost's decision to make plans without consulting Captain Mactavish was somewhat uncharacteristic of the man...

Price, Ghost, and Shepherd dispersed. It was time to ready up.

* * *

"Roach," Captain MacTavish announced the call sign in his distinctive Scottish accent, catching Gary in the hallway on his way to the armory.

"Yes, sir?" Roach answered sharply. As the field commander of Task Force 141, MacTavish always had the complete attention of the sergeant.

MacTavish nodded politely in acknowledgment. Roach knew that MacTavish had given up ages ago in his attempt to convince Roach that his formal manner of greeting him was completely unnecessary. It probably had even irked him up to a certain point until MacTavish decided to give up and just ignore it. But with Roach's background of being raised in a strict military family, following the formalities in the chain of command had been a difficult habit to rid himself of.

"You've been debriefed, correct?" He asked, holding steady eye contact with Roach. It was small gestures like that that made Roach feel that his captain genuinely cared about him.

"Yes, sir. General Shepherd's just informed Ghost, Captain Price, and myself."

"Very well," He almost sighed with relief. "How do you feel about the assignment?"

"I'm fully prepared to do what it takes to take down Makarov," Roach stated without hesitation.

"Aren't we all?" MacTavish grinned broadly. "How much you want to bet Price and I will find and kill the sonofabitch first?"

The two soldiers shared a laugh, but it ended abruptly. Roach was suddenly reminded of the mounting pressure he felt for being team leader with Ghost.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Roach asked after the laughter subsided.

MacTavish laughed heartily once more. "What, do you think I'm Shepherd or something, boy?" His eyes glistened with tears.

"I'm... I'm sorry sir," even Roach had to laugh weakly at himself, and he managed a small smile. "It's just, this whole situation is pretty damn serious, ya know?"

"Aye, it is. The world's in deep shit but we're gonna do somethin' about it." He winked then paused before asking, "Now, what is it that you wanted to say?"

"Do you think I'm prepared to be team leader along with Ghost?" Roach stated, somewhat hesitantly.

MacTavish peered back at him quizzically. "I certainly don't question Ghost's decision," he stated bluntly.

"**Thank you, sir," Roach replied, forcing his voice to sound more confident than he felt. "I guess it doesn't help that I'm just not exactly sure why Ghost chose me to accompany him, especially without consulting you first. I honestly thought that he would request for your assistance over mine," Roach finished the last sentence rather meekly.**

"**Roach, do you think I would have brought you along with me to Kazakhstan if I thought you were incompetent?" MacTavish referred to the mission that Roach alone had accompanied him on as they infiltrated a Russian base for a downed satellite module. **

"**I don't need to hear that you from MacTavish, you actually let me _know_ that I'm valuable."**

"**If you're still doubting yourself, why don't you ask him? Ghost's the honest sort, but don't expect him to sugar coat you with praise if you're looking for an ego boost." He clapped Roach's shoulder in a friendly fashion. "Right, I've got to find Price. We've got an operation in the boneyard to plan!"**

**Roach stood there for a moment, debating whether he really wanted to have that particular discussion with Ghost or not. Usually Roach basked in Captain MacTavish's approval. His Captain's confidence in Roach despite his shortcomings (Roach had lost count of the numerous times the captain had saved his narrow ass after he had miscalculated the amount of speed required to jump across a chasm and land safely on the adjacent ledge) was something that he valued highly. But from Ghost, Roach never received the same type of approval or confidence. Roach always sought it out, because if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he was a bit jealous of the bond MacTavish and Ghost shared. Sure, The 141 were all pretty tight and had each other's backs, but sometimes Roach got the impression that Ghost just didn't see him as his equal like he did with MacTavish. And for him that was disheartening. **

**And yet... Ghost had chosen him as co-team leaderfor the safe house op. **

**_Had MacTavish noticed this and insisted that Ghost work on his rapport with me?_ **

**If that was the case, Roach certainly didn't want to hear some bullshit, rehearsed answer from Ghost. **

**A few more seconds of pondering and anxiety was already starting to bubble up in his stomach. There would only be a few precious hours available for them to gear up and discuss tactics before the mission, and Ghost certainly wouldn't care to waste the time discussing something as silly as Roach's personal doubts.**

**Roach continued his way to the armory, where he expected to find the likes of Scarecrow, Ozone, Toad, Archer, _and Ghost_ discussing procedures whilst kitting up for the mission. Archer and Toad had sniper rifles resting on their laps as they carefully cleaned and serviced the weapons for maintenance. Ghost, Ozone, Scarecrow, and several others were leaning over a table, observing Ghost who indicated points of interest with a gloved finger. Archer and several others nodded in recognition as Roach entered the room.**

"**Archer and Toad will remain behind _here, _180 meters from the safe house, to provide sniper fire." Ghost was obviously referencing a map of the location of Makarov's estate in the Caucasus Mountains. "The rest of you lot will be providing support for Roach and I," Ghost finally looked up for the first time to acknowledge Roach.**

"**The safe house will be well protected and they're likely anticipatin' this assault by now. I expect Makarov will attempt to flee once he's aware of our presence and I wouldn't put it past them to have the property under heavy surveillance. An ambush certainly isn't out of the question either." Ghost paused briefly, then continued, "If Makarov does flee, we'll have Javelin fire from Archer and Toad to take out any vehicles." **

"**Once the property is free from threats, we'll proceed to clear the safe house and search for Makarov. Roach will be in charge of breaching the rooms, Scarecrow and Ozone will provide support as necessary. Ev'ryone understand?" Ghost stared solemnly around the room to regard each of the men in the room, eyes and emotions concealed by mask and shades. Roach remained silent, hoping to conceal the concern he felt about having such direct responsibility. He would be expected to stay sharp and act swiftly in order to carry out the breaching of the rooms as effectively as possible. Despite this, he was relieved that he would atleast be taking on a role that played off his best strength, agility. But with so many possible responses from Makarov's men, he knew the plan that Ghost had dictated could easily go astray if they didn't adapt quickly. The plan was straightforward yet flexible as long as they kept their wits about them. It was sensible, it was Ghost. **

"**Sir? And you?" Roach managed to finally pipe up. **

"**I'll be maintaining contact with HQ and Captain Price for further orders if necessary and guardin' the main entrance. Anythin' else?" There were a few noncommittal murmurings throughout the room that Roach identified as "Sounds good," "Got it," and "Let's take this bitch out!" **

" **'Right then. Let's do this." Ghost concluded with the much often-used catch phrase of his. "Take the next couple 'o hours to kit up and catch up on some sleep. We're oscar mike in oh-four-hundred hours." With that, Ghost exited the armory.**

"**I don't understand," Ozone had immediately turned towards Roach's direction. Even with only saying those three simple words, Roach already got the impression that the American was somehow annoyed with him. "Ghost doesn't even seem to _like_ you that much, and he chose _you _to work with him as team leader?" Ozone scoffed.**

"**Dude, lay off, would you?" Scarecrow readily came to Roach's defense, "We don't need you starting this shit when we've got bigger fuckin' issues at stake here then your ego."**

"**Whatever," Ozone grumbled, "I'm just sayin'. This is a pretty big fuckin' operation. We don't need Roach stumbling over a twig or something and compromising the damn mission."**

"**Man, fuck you!" Roach took the insult hard. He had already been doubting his role in this mission from the get go, and now it was apparent that Roach wasn't the only one who noticed that he was suddenly flung into a position of heavy responsibility that he didn't normal possess. **

**Ozone made a move to deliver a punch square at Roach's jaw, but Archer placed both hands firmly on the soldier's shoulders, his quick action restraining Ozone from moving forward. "He may be a bit clumsy, but remember, he alone of three men survived in the slums of Rio when the team was tracking down Rojas." Archer spoke. "He's a difficult fucker to kill." He grinned at Roach, who was appreciating the support from his men. **

"**Yeah, well, we don't know the exact story behind that, do we? There could be a good reason for that. I don't recall Roach ever crying over the likes of Royce or Meat." His tone became venomous with accusations. **

"**You say one more word, and I'll mention this to MacTavish... you're out numbered here Ozone, step down." Roach was suddenly feeling more confident, though he never realized that Ozone had beef with him regarding the death of Royce and Meat in Rio de Janeiro. **

"**Fuck you! I'll tell you something... I bet you're ready to kiss Ghost's ass more than ever now that he finally cracked and gave you something important to do. Yeah. You know what? Before he died, Royce told me that he was a little tipsy one night and let it slip to you that he had no love lost on the Lieutenant. And it just so happens that you fuckin' _follow_ the man like some lost puppy. You never did give a shit about Royce, did you? Because he didn't like Ghost? It's fuckin' sick, man, the way you constantly seek his attention." Now Ozone's insinuations had reached to a whole new level.**

**Roach had to muster every ounce of his self-restraint to refrain from throttling the absolute shit out of the man. He was so angry that he was on the verge of shaking. Sure, he might have been bothered by Royce's attitude at times, but he would never have disregarded him on the battlefield just because they weren't best friends. And now he had to keep calm, no matter how much Ozone's words had fired him up because in a few hours he would be leading Ozone in combat and expecting this man to _watch his six._ If this was how Ozone truly felt about him, he had all the more reason to be nervous. **

"**We're going to forget this conversation, you here that Ozone?" Roach maintained an even tone as best he could, "Get your head out of your ass and focus this energy on Makarov, he's the one responsible for Royce's death, hell, for the deaths of all the friends and brothers we've lost! Don't you for a second blame a single man in this force."**

**Ozone maintained an angry glare in Roach's direction before shaking off Archer's steady grip. **

"**I'm outta here," Ozone muttered, walking off with a loaded bag of weapons and ammo stock. **

"**Dude, I'm so sorry. He's taken Royce's death pretty hard, they were best friends before they joined the one-four-one," Scarecrow apologized. "I'm gonna go talk to him. Don't worry, he'll come to his senses," he added sincerely, though Roach was finding it hard to feel rest-assured on the matter.**

"**I didn't realize that he... blamed me for that," Roach looked down at his feet uncomfortably, voice quiet.**

"**He'll get over it," Archer replied, though Roach wished he could believe him. "He'll have to, or ****else Makarov won't have kill us, we'll end up killin' each other."**

**Roach simply stared at his boots.**

"**Ease up mate, you're gonna do fine!" Archer flashed him a toothy grin. **

**Roach nodded grimly. The confidence he had briefly felt earlier was mostly gone and wasn't likely to return. So Ozone truthfully believed Roach had a role in Royce's death. Fuck. Ozone had even seen how badly shook-up Roach had been after Rio, how we he hadn't spoken to anyone for days afterword. Hell, Roach had nearly been killed himself. He wasn't exactly angry at Ozone, but more so pissed that he had brought up his devotion to Ghost, especially considering that he was already sensitive to the topic in his own right. He should have been focusing his attention to Makarov, to completing the plan successfully. But his brain was in a mad disarray, full of his self-doubts and desperate dreams... **


	2. Doubts

A/N:

Firstly, thank you all so much for reviewing! I know commenting can be easy to pass up due to laziness, so thanks a million. A review/comment no matter how brief is always nice to see!

**Sassy: **Thank you so much! =D *bows*I am already hating my first chapter though, haha. I think this one is better, but I'll probably re-read it tomorrow and hate it too. XD Thank you for reading!

**Aurora:** Thank you kindly! I hope I maintain your interest!

**Mysterious Stranger: **Ah, I like hearing that! I was sort of inspired to write this based on my own feelings about the story of MW2. I remember finding it odd Ghost was so quick to make a decision without MacTavish so I sort of channelled that into Roach (well we do play as him so it makes sense that we can pour a bit of ourselves into the empty vessel!) Ghost is a character I admired right from the start but up until "Loose Ends" you don't exactly see the same sort of comradeship between Ghost and Roach that was often displayed between Soap and Roach and Soap and Ghost throughout the game... so that's basically what inspired. Originally I wasn't going to go for slash (bromance at best, but too many fics on here corrupted me, hahaha!).

Oh, and I apologize if you were anticipating something steamy this chapter... maybe next time *whistles*

* * *

"_So you're the F.N.G, huh? Sanderson?" An American who had introduced himself as Royce offered Gary a smoke, which he quickly declined._

" _'Fraid so," Gary responded with sarcastic melancholy. _

"_Yeah, you sure as hell don't look like much," The man known as Royce laughed, but clapped Gary on the shoulder in a friendly fashion."Welcome to the club."_

"_Thanks, it's an honor," Gary grinned genuinely. He think he liked Royce enough._

"_So... MacTavish giving you a hard time yet?" Royce asked while puffing away on his cigarette._

"_Nah, not really," Gary side-stepped to avoid the cloud of hazy smoke that had escaped Royce's mouth. Alright, so the second hand smoke was a bit annoying._

"_Good man, that MacTavish. Saved my skin more times than I can count. You meet the Lieutenant yet?"_

"_Don't think so... what do they call him again, Ghost or something?"_

"_Yeah, that's him. Off the record, he's the biggest douche I ever met." Royce spat on the ground, his voice indicating that he had very little to like about the lieutenant Ghost._

_Gary blinked, finding it odd that this man that had just introduced himself was already divulging what he privately felt about his superior officer. It made him feel put on the spot, awkward. Suddenly he wished that he hadn't bumped into Royce, that he could just get back to his bunk..._

"_Just, don't do anything to piss him off. He doesn't take any screw-ups lightly. Thinks he's the best of course..." Royce droned. _

"_I see..." Gary spoke hesitantly. "I'll keep that in mind."_

"_Guy even dresses like a total douche bag during missions, too. Wears this stupid-ass skull balaclava and sunglasses. It's like he's too afraid to show himself to the enemy or something, Freakin' coward."_

_Gary really wanted this particular conversation to end. He had yet to meet his Lieutenant and wanted to hold off on any sort of judgement until then. He didn't need the personal biases of Royce interfering with how he felt about one of the men who would be leading him into life and death scenarios. _

"_You'll see what I mean soon enough," Royce nodded his head slowly, finally speaking after Gary failed to add comment. _

"_Why do you think they call him Ghost?" Gary attempted to diffuse the conversation into a new direction._

"_Because," This time, a different voice spoke from behind Royce. Gary hadn't even seen anyone approach. "...Only ghosts can come back from the dead." The figure that belonged to the disembodied voice came into view, clad in black, the grinning skull printed on the balaclava almost seemed to float in place. _

"_Jesus Christ, man!" Royce's cigarette fell from his mouth in surprise. "Ghost!" The look on his face indicated that he sincerely hoped that their new arrival hadn't heard the discussion prior to Gary's question._

_Ghost simply nodded. "F.N.G, eh? Welcome to the one-four-one."_

_Gary was a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Lieutenant and the quick introduction. "Thank you, sir. The pleasure's all mine." He managed to say after a slight delay._

"_Call sign?" Ghost asked Gary casually._

"_Roach, sir."_ _Gary gazed up on the sunglasses and mask that made the man impossible to read._

"_I like to step on roaches," He replied in a humorless tone. "...Time to rest up, you're joining the mission tomorrow, Captain's orders." With that, Ghost turned on his heel, and merged once more with the darkness. _

_Royce mockingly wiped a hand across his forehead in relief. "See what I mean?" He mouthed, before turning towards the barracks. _

_But Gary didn't share the same sentiments as Royce. In the brief minute that he had been in the presence of Ghost, he had felt that the man was compelling, mysterious even. Yet those feelings intimidated him slightly, and he wasn't exactly sure why. From that moment on, Gary Sanderson was fixated on a ghost. _

_

* * *

_"_MacTavish! Tangos at twelve o'clock! I can't get a shot!" An English accent barked frantically above __the sound of rapid machine gun fire. _

_Roach crouched behind a vehicle that had recently exploded after catching fire when a stray grenade detonated within it's proximity. He could spot enemy fire at his front as he cautiously scoped through the twisted metal of a warped window frame on the car's door. _

_Bullets immediately sprayed the sides of the burnt metal frame. _

"_Shit!" Roach hurriedly ducked once more, seeking cover from the barrage of bullets. _

_From his peripheral vision, Roach saw his captain emerge from the cover of a dumpster in response to Ghost's yell. Roach heard shouts in a language he didn't recognize as MacTavish took aim with deadly precision, eliminating the threats that had been firing on the squad._

"_Tangos down!" MacTavish responded as he ceased fire, reloading his AK-47 behind the dumpster._

"_Nice work, mate!" Ghost had jogged up to the dumpster to reload along side the captain. _

_That had been the third instance Roach had failed to get a clear shot on this particular mission alone. He wasn't just putting his own life in danger when he missed; the longer a threat was present, the more harm it could do to his squad mates. He was grateful that he had his captain to take the shot when he screwed up, but he couldn't assume that MacTavish would always be there when he failed to take down a target. His blunders were starting to demoralize him; he needed to prove himself, not just to the one-four-one, but to himself. _

_Of course, sometimes trying to prove yourself only proves that you're a fool. _

_Ghost and MacTavish charged forward, Roach following suit after a moment's hesitation, not wanting to keep up the rear. But by the time Roach had left his position and had sprinted into the open, MacTavish and Ghost had already ducked for cover. And Roach had lost them. A shower of bullets pecked away at the dirt road at Roach's feet as he fumbled for cover behind a large, metal barrel._

"_Roach! Always check your corners!" Ghost barked from an indiscernible location._

_Roach's position was safe but it would be difficult to use for cover. The barrel he had chosen to hide behind was thin and rusting. He chucked a frag grenade further down the road, hoping to reduce the number of threats. _

"_Bloody 'ell, Roach! You've given away your position!" Ghost's voice consumed his hearing over the radio. _

_Roach gritted his teeth, because the lieutenant was right. His frag must have fallen short, as it did nothing to deter or break-up the enemy formation. Bullets now relentlessly hammered away on the metal surface of the barrel. It wouldn't hold for much longer. Just how far ahead had he ran? He felt a sudden panic spring up on him as he was unable to detect the whereabouts of MacTavish and Ghost. _

_To add injury to insult, a Tango was now visible on an adjacent roof top, brandishing an RPG. It was aimed directly at Roach. He quickly aimed down the sight of his ACR and went for a head shot. _

_Click._

_Reload? Shit, shit, shit! He pulled out his side arm, but at that range, precision was difficult. He shot the wielder of the RPG in the arm, who dropped the cumbersome weapon off the side of the balcony in pain. _

"_Roach, MacTavish here, no telling how many Tangos are in that building, you need to fall back- we'll cover you," His captain kept his tone calm, reassuring. _

"_Good thing a roach can scurry fast," Ghost muttered. _

_Roach ignored the comment, and dashed forward maintaining a hunched position as much as possible. Keeping low , he maneuvered behind cars and dumpsters that lined the street as much as possible and managed to avoid detection._

"_The alley, Roach," MacTavish informed him. To his a left, he saw a narrow passage between two run-down apartment buildings. He found Ghost, MacTavish and the others squeezed inside. _

"_Sorry, sir, I got a bit overwhelmed," Roach apologized to his captain, quickly taking the time to reload his assault rifle_

"_You're not a one man army, lad, " MacTavish replied. "But you did good work takin' out that RPG." At least his efforts hadn't been entirely without merit. _

"_With all due respect MacTavish, Roach was flanked," Ghost spoke up, unashamed to call out Roach in front of the entire squad. "He's made the mission more difficult. We now have to deal with-" Roach's self-esteem fell sharply at Ghost's accusation. Maybe Royce had been right, there was no pleasing him. The douche. _

"_That's enough, Ghost!" MacTavish had cut him off mid-sentence, brushing off the Lieutenant's remark. "Time to move out. On my mark!"_

_Despite later completing the rest of the mission successfully, Roach couldn't help but feel that he had failed utterly. Ghost's patronizing words haunted him for weeks. _

_

* * *

_That man and the grinning skull. Was Simon Riley really a coward beneath the facade? Or did the mask serve something more than just simply hiding his identity? Could it have represented something more to the man, just as the name Ghost seemed to carry a sense of heavy burdens from a troubled past? Or was Roach merely over analyzing this man? He didn't know how to act around him, or even what to say half of the time. Off duty Ghost could be easy going, almost laid back to the point where you would actually think it was possible to be friends. But Ghost never truly let anyone into that world of his. Beneath the exterior Roach got the impression that the only man he could ever relate to was MacTavish. The two were almost inseparable; sure if was great to see Captain and Lieutenant compatible and cooperative, but MacTavish made an effort to form a relationship with all of his men, where as Ghost maintained the distance with everyone else. Maybe he truly was incapable of finding common ground with most men as indicated by what he had told Gary the first night that he had met him _"...Only ghosts can come back from the dead."_ To Gary, it could have been interpreted a multitude of ways, but the way Ghost phrased it implied that only he knew the whole story... and that story was a particularly long and dark one. Was it that history that prevented Ghost from developing a level of trust and understanding with Roach and the others?

Roach sighed. He was tired of trying to get on the man's good side, but part of him wouldn't let up. To receive even the slightest form of gratitude or acknowledgment for a job well done would have sent him over the moon. Even though he knew MacTavish held Roach in his confidence, Ghost's lack of connection to the men of the one-four-one bothered him. To Ghost, he would only ever be "Roach," not Gary Sanderson; only a solider, not a friend.

Roach had eventually decided it wasn't worth his effort. And then he caught a glimpse of the real man beneath that skull. It was nearly perfect, aside from a stray scar here or there. But they didn't serve to take away from the man's appearance, only strengthening his striking features. His square jaw, high cheek bones, straight nose weren't traits one would normally choose to keep hidden from the world. The mask apparently held something meaningful to him, even if the reason was beyond everyone else. The more Roach discovered about Ghost, the more difficult it became for him to shake off his fixation... a fixation that only fueled his desire to impress the man. Roach could only hope that he would finally get his chance during the safe house operation.


	3. Revelations

"**Of Doubts and Dreams"**

_Chapter 3: Revelations_

_A/N: I apologize for the delay between Chapter 2 and 3 with this story... I toyed around with this chapter (especially the dialogue, the scene itself was in my mind since the beginning) for the longest time, and I finally feel that I've written it to best of my abilities. Of course, juggling course work and playing my most anticipated game in months ((Dead Space 2!)) only served as distractions from my writing- I hope it doesn't show too badly! I am a bit worried that this chapter may seem a bit unrealistic or OCC, but hey, it's called "fan fiction" for a reason. Comments and critique are always welcome. Thank you for reading..._

_**Sassy**: Thank you again for your comment. I'm glad I have managed to capture Ghost slightly differently from others as he is my favorite character. ^^ I've been busy with school but I will be sure to read up on Never Say Die soon and comment as well. 3_

_**Leen: **Thanks girl, you are really too kind. =D I'm flattered that you think I capture the characters and spirit of the game so well!_

_**NoName: **Aww, why thank you. I hope I have managed to keep Ghost still rather mysterious in this chapter, though he does open up a bit. ^^;; I hope you won't be disappointed!_

_

* * *

_

After having a quick look over of his weaponry, Roach left the armory, leaving Archer, Toad, and several others to gear up before the mission. A few long hours still remained before the chopper would arrive, and Roach fully intended to clear and ease his mind until then. He already had a lot on his plate before the conversation with Ozone had taken place and it had only served to strengthen his doubts about... _everything. _The accusations had been painful, and worst of all, Ghost had hardly acknowledged his presence before disappearing without even so much as a personal word with him. It was confusing and Roach was once again led to believe that his Lieutenant was once more brushing him off, that his input was unnecessary.

A moment to relax. A moment to forget it all. That was all he could hope for. And on this base, the best he could hope for was a shower alone.

Roach returned to his bunk briefly to gather a towel and a change of clothes. He entered the chilly locker room wrapped in the towel around his torso, BDU's slung casually over his shoulder. _Aha, empty_. Just what Roach had sought after, peace and quiet. Roach undid the towel fastened around his waist and slung it over a nearby rack on the wall. Placing his BDU's on the wooden bench by the lockers, Roach turned to enter the large, open communal shower. Roach rarely was able to enter alone and when he did, he usually turned on three of the shower heads at once. Sure, the water was usually cold but at least he got more water power that way. Looking quite forward to this, Roach marched over to the entrance hurriedly-

-And impacted hard into a large, fleshy wall.

"Bloody 'ell!" it grumbled exasperatedly.

_Shit. _Roach knew that voice all to well_. Shit!_

Roach keeled over onto the slippery tile floor, trying to land in a dignified position, which he didn't succeed. He skidded across several tiles on the floor, tail bone aching upon the landing. He scrambled quickly to right himself, but Roach only fell over once more. As Roach struggled upwards his gaze embarrassingly met the narrowed blue eyes of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"Ya know, you're startin' to become a hazard to more then just yourself, Roach." Ghost shook his head, but his expression softened ever so slightly as he watched Roach helplessly scamper off the floor. He seemed to take no notice of the fact that Roach was completely stark naked. Roach's eyes skimmed over Ghost's figure and it was hard for him to ignore that the other man was exposed just the same.

_Oh god. I bumped into him? He's gotta be raging._

Roach attempted to divert his gaze from below Ghost's waist, hoping that he hadn't drawn attention to the fact that his eyes had lingered in the spot a little longer than necessary. His eyes darted over a muscular torso riddled with shiny white scars; the marks appearing more evident then ever in the dim lighting. Roach recalled how Ghost had once remarked that he felt _naked_ without his trademark skull balaclava covering his face during combat, which Roach could only find ironic now as he acted quite comfortably in nothing but his birthday suit as if he had nothing to hide from anyone.

"Ghost! Man, you know me, real sorry 'bout that," Roach managed to sputter, clamoring for the towel he had slung over the rack. Roach hurriedly tied it around his waist, hoping to diffuse some of the awkwardness.

"I haven't told you to check your corners for nothing," Ghost replied, sounding slightly perplexed by Roach's panicked behavior.

Roach knew exactly what was making him nervous, and it wasn't just because his Lieutenant was distractingly handsome when his features weren't hidden from the world. Coupled with everything else running through his head, Roach just wasn't sure how to handle the situation without making a fool of himself in the process. Roach was truthfully troubled by Ghost's presence in the shower room; he had been hoping for sometime to think, to cool off... to forget the confrontation with Ozone... heck, to even forget about Ghost would have been nice for a change. If anything, Roach was feeling more conflicted about him more than ever.

"You're not finished?" Roach swallowed audibly, Ghost was still dry.

"Forgot the soap. Speaking of which, any idea why Price calls MacTavish 'Soap'?"

Roach shook his head and shrugged lazily, attempting his best imitation of casual, "Your guess is as good as mine."

Ghost grabbed a plain white bar of soap from a nearby locker and proceeded back into the showers. He lathered up the bar until he had a rich foam in the palm of his hands, which he used to cleanse everything from his chest to the reddish-blonde hair on his head.

"Maybe we should start calling the soap 'MacTavish' just to irk him," Ghost's voice boomed around the high ceilinged shower bay as Roach started the tap from the shower opposite him.

Roach managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, pass me the 'MacTavish,' would ya?"

Ghost chucked it from across the stall, "Try not to drop it," he joked. Thankfully, Roach managed to snatch it out of the air without it slipping from his normally clumsy grasp.

Ghost could be an alright guy, sure. But the man had a certain stark duality about his personality. Sometimes, you never knew which "Ghost" you'd be speaking with half of the time. Regardless, he was one hell of a solider that Roach couldn't even begin to compare himself to. Whatever mess Ghost had to have dealt with before signing onto Task Force 141 had hardened and shaped him into a fierce fighter but had also crafted him into something of a loner; it appeared to have affected the way in which he interacted with people and formed trusting relationships.

Ghost was messaging the "MacTavish" into his scalp with his finger tips, his powerful upper arms flexing slightly with the movement. Roach looked at his own body in comparison: thin, but lean, though certainly lacking the power and strength that Ghost had. Roach felt waifish in his presence and recalled that we were only a few hours away from the assault on Makarov's hideout.

_Why the hell had he chosen me again?_

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, mate?" He spoke with his back facing Roach, continuing to scrub down.

"I''ll admit, I didn't think I'd be your first choice for co-team leader." Roach stated slowly, feeling his heart race in his chest now that he had finally worked up the nerve to question Ghost.

"That so? Is there another you'd have take your place?" Ghost's light tone seemed to indicate that he was slightly amused.

It was now or never. Roach had grown tired of constantly questioning where he stood with this man. MacTavish was right. If they were going to be partners on this, Ghost at least owed him an explanation for his behavior.

"Not at all, sir. I don't mean to question your judgement it's just... I suppose I'm just not used to you... well, expressing much faith in my capabilities as a soldier."

"I never got the impression you were that insecure," Ghost suddenly barked with laughter, though it did not carry a mocking tone.

"I don't think I believe that, sir." Roach kept his tone calm, not accusing or jealous. But he didn't pause to leave it open for Ghost to respond immediately. "I can't for the life of me figure out why you've selected me, because you've never _once_ given me a reason to believe that I was worthy."

Ghost had now turned off the water at his shower. Roach had finished up as well and followed suit. The silence was almost overwhelming after the flow of water ceased. A drip or two from the leaky faucets here or there almost screamed inside of Roach's ears.

_You've really done it now_, Roach thought. _Just couldn't keep your fuckin' insecurities to yourself..._

"We're different breeds of men, Roach," Ghost spoke slowly, yet added nothing further.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? We're both in this line of work, we both get the job done!" So much for the relaxing shower.

"Aye, that you do," Ghost stated bluntly as he walked out into the locker room.

"So that's it? You really don't give a fuck, do you?" Roach had lost his patience. As much as he respected, admired, and even idolized the man, Roach had to realize that everything he had hoped for in impressing Ghost was simply an unreachable dream. He was really nothing but a pest, a Roach. "Don't you give a _fuck_ about anyone other than yourself? You're not the only one who's experienced some shit in the past."

There was another maddening pause in which the dripping from the faucets consumed Roach's hearing.

"Who am I, Roach?" Ghost suddenly asked, his voice strikingly quiet to Roach's previous outburst.

"My Lieutenant..." Roach replied. He had a strong feeling where this was going, "So I take it I should just ask for my leave of absence, then?"

"No. Who. Am. _I_?" He repeated.

"You're Ghost..." Roach answered, thinking it was too obvious of an answer but it appeared to be the only appropriate response.

"Don't you know what a ghost is? I stopped livin' a long time ago. I'm only a shell, unable to join the world of the living."

"Sounds like a load of BS," Roach muttered whilst clothing himself in a fresh pair of boxers, keeping a large distance between himself and the Lieutenant. "Besides, I don't see what that has to do with me."

"It only sounds like BS if you've never been a ghost. And _you_ still have a life to live. A family back home, people who care about you and expect you to return to that home safely. Goddammit Roach, I've only ever been so _bloody fuckin'_ hard on you to ensure that you make it back to that life of yours. To prevent you from becoming a ghost."

Roach was at a lost for words, had he heard Ghost correctly? It certainly had sounded sincere enough. Roach's cheeks flushed pink at the unexpected concern Ghost apparently had been harboring towards him.

"I, uh... really shouldn't have brought it up. I must sound like such a pussy." Roach returned with an apologetic laugh, embarrassed but spirits raised by the revelation.

Ghost had fully dried himself and was now donned in boxers as he prepared to step into a fresh pair of combat pants. "No worries... I suppose it was just a simple misunderstandin'. 'Stead of offerin' praise I always assumed that my own way would indicate concern enough." He paused to pull up his pants and button them at the top. He spared Roach a glance, possibly to gauge his reaction to his own words. "You know it's pro'lly best you brought this up, I wouldn't want you distracted when we're takin' out Makarov."

"But why would you ever want to live like a ghost?" Roach had to ask.

"Don't think you'd understand, mate."

"Damn straight! I mean, it sounds like a pretty shitty way to go about life."

"Roach, we've been through some deep shit together, but it's nothin' compared to what I've faced alone."

"But, you're not alone anymore... you've got the one-four-one."

_You've got me_.

"If you're tryin' to make me feel somethin', it ain't gonna work. I'm a proper stubborn prick." He finished by pulling the iconic skull balaclava over his face followed by placing his sunglasses over his eyes; blocking any and all visual connection Roach had to the man completely.

"Hiding from your enemies is one thing, but hiding for your friends? You shouldn't be afraid to show your face," Roach blurted out, against his better judgement.

"You're already lookin' at it," Ghost's voice was devoid of emotion.

Without a word, Roach stepped over to Ghost, who didn't move as Roach inched in closer. He didn't know why, but Ghost's reply bothered him and he was suddenly feeling bold. Roach raised his hands slowly, discarding the man's sunglasses to the floor. The tired blue eyes were peering back at him questioningly cold, lined and shadowed behind years of hardship. His gaze was practically challenging Roach to proceed with a _"you wouldn't dare"_ look. The blue spheres quickly narrowed into slits as soon as Roach made a move to remove the balaclava.

"-_the fuck_!" Ghost grunted, his large fists quickly moved to encase Roach's narrow wrists. It took very little of his effort as Ghost forced Roach's arms back to his sides, even as Roach struggled against him.

"What are you hiding from?" Roach yelled more loudly than he had anticipated, using his sheer willpower to hold off Ghost, yet it did nothing to impede his Lieutenant.

"It's not what I'm hidin' from, it's what I'm keepin' out!" Ghost roared, placing every ounce of his power into keeping Roach at distance. However, in his haste to restrain the Sergeant, the rubber soles of Ghost's boots slipped upon a watery tile, which shifted all of his weight on top of the smaller man as Ghost attempted to use Roach for balance. Roach was unable to support the mass of the larger man, and both men fell crashing to the floor. Ghost's firm chest was pressed against Roach's upon the impact, which nearly knocked the wind out of Roach. The Lieutenant quickly shifted off of him with a grunt and brought himself upright off the floor, panting throughout the process. He staggered to the bench, sat, and buried his hidden face into his hands.

Roach remained on the tile floor, sprawled uncomfortably as he digested Ghost's words.

"So that's it... you want to shut everyone out," he didn't pose it as a question. The mask, the call sign; it all made sense. Ghost not only felt that he didn't belong, but that he also wanted to prevent anyone from trying to get close to him. Including Roach.

"There's a reason why I don't waltz the fuck around with sunshine and rainbows spewing out of my arse..."

Roach slowly made his way to sit beside Ghost on the bench, who exhaled sharply as Roach planted himself on the spot beside him.

"You're still human, for fuck's sake." Roach said quietly. Ghost removed his face out of his palms and turned to face Roach eye to eye, blue to brown. _Or was he?_

Now that Roach thought about it, he had never heard the man speak of his life outside of the one-four-one. Did he have higher aspirations than his military career? Did he have a family? He never spoke of having one or of any sort of relationship with a girlfriend or wife. What sort of experiences was Ghost depriving himself of by following his life's philosophy? Suddenly Roach noticed that neither of them had spoken for several long minutes. Ghost was staring at the lockers straight ahead. His lips suddenly parted and he spoke once more.

"I don't know what being human feels like anymore, Roach. My fucked up past will always haunt me."

_As you will always haunt me..._

Roach recalled what Ghost had told him earlier, about him still having a life to live and that Ghost was going to ensure that he did not lose that. It was probably the most altruistic thought that anyone had ever spared him. Deep down, Ghost _did _care, but at the same time, he had striven to live his life with as few personal attachments as possible. Roach desperately wanted to change that for him, but knew it wasn't going to be an over-night, dramatic one.

"I could help you remember," Roach said, trying to fill his voice with resolution.

"There ain't enough good in this world to do that," Ghost answered tersely.

"Do you... still want me on this mission, sir?" Roach asked apprehensively.

"I don't _want_ you with me on this mission. I _need_ you. I need to know you'll be safe."

"You don't have to make me your responsibility, Ghost. I never meant to burden you," Roach felt obligated to say it, even though he didn't entirely mean it. Ghost's honesty had touched him, and if anything, he hoped it that it meant that they had developed a stronger understanding of one another.

"Aye, but you have become my responsibility."

"I'm not sure what I did to deserve that," Roach was certain that the pink flush was returning to his cheeks. "But if you're looking out for me, I want to do the same for you."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Ghost asked without a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

Roach burned hot suddenly under his BDU's, a very odd occurrence considering the recent cold shower and chilled room. His heart was starting to race at the thought of answering that question honestly.

"There are some really nice things about being human, about living, you know," Roach finally answered as nonchalantly as possible.

"Such as?"

"Well... sex, obviously." It was truthfully the first response that popped into Roach's mind.

"Aye, can't say I can argue that one. You don't even want to know how long it's been." Ghost removed his fixated gaze from the wall, turning his attention towards Roach. "Although, difficult to meet that particular request in the sausage fest we call the one-four-one."

"Well..." Roach was feeling so uncomfortably warm that his skin was likely glowing red. "I never said sex with a woman." As soon as the words slipped through his lips Roach regretted them. He was blatantly hitting on his lieutenant in a field that had a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy on relations. Roach was completely prepared for Ghost to walk out without another word and inform Captain MacTavish that Sergeant Roach would be in need of immediate "neutralization" from the Task Force. That, or he was about to receive a punch square in the balls.

But he had already made great strides with the Ghost in one evening. Who was to say it couldn't go any further?


	4. Awakening

"**Of Doubts and Dreams"**

Chapter 4: Awakening

_A/n: I just want to sincerely thank all of you who have taken the time to review my little fic, especially considering my apparent lack of intent to ever update this story. I apologize for the wait- truth be told, I have sort of fallen off of the CoD bandwagon. Yet when I logged into my account for the first time in nearly a year just last week and saw my reviews, I suddenly had the urge to finish what I started. I'm not going to say that this chapter is worthy of the "year-long" update, but I hope you enjoy it regardless... and thank you for reading. 3_

Warning: this chapter contains an explicit sexual encounter between two men. You have been warned.

The silence stretched on indefinitely as Roach's anxiety increased exponentially._"Oh shit, shit, fuck, shit! Did I _really _just say that... Did I _really _just proposition my lieutenant?" _He felt like slapping himself several times across the face, only refraining because the display would have appeared utterly mad.

Ghost peered slowly at Roach as an uneasy, muffled laugh emerged from the balaclava. "You think a quick, dirty shag is going to make me feel something again, do ya?" Ghost shook his head slowly. Not sensing any hostility from the lieutenant, Roach mentally sighed with relief and relaxed his posture. Hesitating only momentarily, Roach opted to continue the conversation. Ghost could reject him, but at least it would allow him to move on.

"No... but sex with someone who cares about you, that's a totally different experience."

"And who do you suppose cares about me?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" As he had already made it this far, Roach could do nothing to suppress his honesty, nor hinder the red from spreading across his facial features.

"Aye," Ghost murmured, barely audible. With that, he rose from the bench and approached the door, the exit. Roach's stomach lurched and his heart sank as Ghost left his side. He'd made a foolish attempt, and of all times, just as he had managed to make a breakthrough with his Lieutenant. For Roach, it appeared that just as quickly as they had reached their odd, mutual understanding of one another that Roach had blundered and damaged his entire rapport with the man. Come to think of it, Roach would be lucky if Ghost so much as spared him a glance from here on out, and he feared for a moment how this conversation, how crossing the professional boundary so severely, might potentially effect Roach's chance of surviving the safe-house op...

But Ghost didn't pass through the threshold to leave Roach to his own desperation and doubts. A soft clicking noise was heard, and Roach understood the sound to be that of a door lock snapping into place. His heart beat picked up once more as Ghost turned around from the door and marched to stand directly in front of Roach. Roach slowly rose from the bench to peer up apprehensively into Ghost's piercing gaze. Roach wasn't about to jump the gun just because Ghost had checked the door to ensure privacy. Perhaps he had just wanted to be certain that he could beat Roach senseless in a secure environment where no one could prevent him from bashing Roach into a bloody, unrecognizable pulp...

But Roach's gaze didn't falter, prepared to take the worst like a man despite coming out as a complete and utter ponce. For fuck's sake, his sexual preference didn't make him any less of a soldier, and he was determined to indicate this to Ghost, the visual epitome of the masculine, testosterone infused warrior. Practically poster-boy material. Ghost, however, stood his ground, and when Roach looked- as in _really observed-_ those blue eyes, he saw that they were not hardened with challenge and outrage as they had been several minutes ago when Roach had made the attempt to remove his sunglasses. In contrast, the pair of eyes hovering mere inches above Roach's were now almost sad and pleading with need. 

Roach blinked. Dumbfounded.But Ghost's gaze didn't vacillate. Apprehensively, Roach lifted his fingers to the edges of the black balaclava, and peeled it ever so slowly off the pale, scar-ridden skin below. At first, Roach expected Ghost to fight him off, and even as a well-defined chin and jawline exposed itself from the fabric, and next a nose, he still anticipated Ghost to eventually come to his senses and yank the mask back into place. However, Ghost allowed for him to continue, not once taking his eyes off the other man. Roach continued to peel away the skull covering the beautiful human face, his fingers now skirting across Ghost's hairline. Continuing onwards, slowly, the balaclava finally fell limply to Roach's side. And along with the mask went the owner's inhibitions.

The crushing weight of Ghost's lips upon Roach's nearly toppled him onto the tile floor once more. The awkward manner in which Ghost stood stark still, his hands kept to himself firmly at his side, while his tongue explored Roach's mouth, led him to believe that _such intimacy_ with a man was unchartered territory for the lieutenant. While he never really had any reason to suspect that Ghost had such inclinations, Roach had never had a reason not to, either. Apprehension now unjustified by Ghost's sudden advance, Roach gathered Ghost's hands in his own and placed them around his hips, inviting Ghost to explore his body. For a moment, Ghost left them in place, but with a little encouragement from Roach, who began pushing the lieutenant's hands upwards across his defined abs and slowly upwards to his pectorals, Ghost eventually grew comfortable enough to carry on of his own accord to fiddle with Roach's nipples. In return, Roach who gasped for breath slightly at the sensations, suppressed a groan as he placed his palms around the sides of Ghost's firm shoulders and slid them downwards to his narrow lower back. _"Shit... I've been missing out on _this_ for ages!"_

The exchange of hot, heady breath, the raw scratch of Ghost's stubble across Roach's smooth skin, the tingling as nipples hardened in response to bodily friction; the swelling of arousal quickly set in for both parties involved. Fumbling with Ghost's cargo pants, Roach struggled to release a belt buckle, unbutton two top buttons, and unzip a rather lengthy zipper before the unyielding pants would allow for Roach to slide them down Ghost's legs. "Christ, I've picked easier locks!" Roach managed between sloppy kisses with a slight smirk, realizing he was relaxed enough to joke.

"Aye, and I've seen you take even longer to open them," Ghost retorted good-naturedly, who had gained access much sooner.

Together, standing in their boxers, their needs were expressed in the thin fabric stretching taught around their groins. Roach hurried to remove the next layer depriving him of Ghost's fully exposed glory, and it suddenly dawned on him how vulnerable Ghost had become. His face no longer concealed, Roach could read his expressions of desire and a need for urgency. Ghost was a man who had feared being close to someone for a very long time, that much, Roach could ascertain. He wondered faintly why Ghost had shaped himself into such a detached individual, but now was not the time for questions. Now was a time for the exchanging and sharing of closeness, comfort, and pleasure. Roach was determined to make Ghost feel wanted, appreciated, and most of all, _alive._

And if the feel of hot skin pressed against his own own didn't make him feel alive, Roach wasn't sure what else would, aside from firing off a gun or rappelling several hundred feet, the likes of which Ghost did on a fairly regular basis. Surely such duties under the scope of Task Force 141 had become relatively routine for the soldier. And if Roach were to be perfectly honest with himself, the career in Task Force 141 had become routine and incredibly grim for him as well. It was little wonder Ghost, who had been a soldier longer than Roach had, had shut himself down to an almost automatic level. But this experience they were now sharing, the exchange of mutual affection and need? Ghost had said so himself "you don't even want to know how long it's been..." Clearly, he was lacking in this department, of affection and care, and had become accustomed to the loneliness. But Roach wanted Ghost to know it didn't have to be that way. What ever Ghost had witnessed to deem Roach worthy of saving, of assisting and looking after, Roach wanted nothing more than to return the favor and allow him to know that Ghost was valued and deserved to live just as anyone else; that it wasn't too late to let someone in.

Ghost's large hands now tugged at Roach's boxers until they slid down his narrow frame. Roach eagerly pulled away at Ghost's own pair, revealing the erect, upward manhood within. Roach could only feel his own twitch in response to Ghost's unabashed excitement. _He actually wants this, wants _me,it dawned on him as Roach admired the man; every scar, every muscle, perfection. His flaws and strengths were equally beautiful, and Roach could only idolize the man even more so.

Pulling gently on Ghost's taut forearm, Roach led him back over to the showers. Turning the faucet on, Roach stood beneath the cool sprinkling waters and began to run his hands over Ghost's chest, feeling the strong heat emanating from the other man's body in contrast to the chilly spray of water. Grabbing Ghost around the neck, Roach eased himself against the other man's form, not wanting to make their experience solely about dominance or submission. Instead, he wanted for them to face each other like equals, giving and providing as partners should, and enjoying the satisfaction that mutual stimulation would bring. Roach looked up into the eyes of his lieutenant, to reaffirm that he would be comfortable with this. Roach wasn't exactly sure how _new_ any of this was for him, but he couldn't detect any apprehension or discomfort in those eyes. Instead, the returning gaze was genuine and a sincere smile played on Ghost's lips. 

Roach massaged his fingers across Ghost's broad shoulders and his touch was returned with adept fingers flitting across his spine, going lower, lower. Roach's breath hitched when Ghost's fingers brushed the cleavage between his cheeks and could do nothing to prevent his hips from rocking forward, bringing his erection into full contact with Ghost's. Roach was ready to keep thrusting towards the hard flesh he had met, but refrained, desiring to take it slow and savor the sensations. His groin pulsed with electricity and he bit his lower lip to quell his yearn to moan. Ghost had closed his eyes in response, his face otherwise lax with pleasure. Roach felt the timid movement of Ghost's pelvis thrusting forward to meet his own; it was almost enough to make him lose control. He would have spread himself wide open, down on his knees, for the man, if it had been asked of him. Instead, Roach could gather that Ghost_ didn't exactly_ know what he was doing, and decided against suggesting something that might be potentially outside of the other man's comfort zone.

They continued rocking against one another, slowly, gently, for several minutes, hands exploring every curve and crevice of their strong arms, necks, torsos, thighs. But Roach was feeling daring and although he could tell from the soft grunts and sighs of his partner that he was enjoying the experience, Roach knew he could make him feel far more. Brushing his fingers downwards to Ghost's abdomen, following the light-colored trail of body hair until it grew thick and unruly, Roach cupped the privates he found within, fiddling the sack. Ghost's breathing became more ragged, heavy. When he spoke, his voice nearly cracked. "Keep... ah, going," he urged Roach. Placing a firm grip around the thick source of need, Roach began pumping, sliding, caressing every inch of skin as Ghost's finger nails dug in ever so slightly into the flesh of Roach's lower back.

"Give... it... a try," Roach managed to suggest, hoping he didn't seem too desperate. Immediately, Ghost caught on and grabbed onto Roach, stroking away frantically. Soon he could sense they would reach mutual satisfaction, as Roach began to shudder at the intense, heavy, touch. Roach licked Ghost's jawline and began planting kisses around his ear lobe, playfully nipping at the soft, dangling flesh. In return, Ghost dived downwards to feast on Roach's neck, frantically planting his mouth on gooseflesh-ridden skin as he descended to nip on a collar bone, lapping the bite with his tongue afterwards.

They continued to rock against each other for a bit longer, hands continuing to fondle and excite. Muscle smacked against muscle, hip bones clashing against each other until both men came closer to completion. Roach felt himself tighten below as pulses of pleasure surged through his body, his cock on the verge of exploding. Suppressing the urge to cry out, Roach gritted his teeth and sunk his fingers into the firm flesh of Ghost's arse as he erupted shamelessly across Ghost's abdomen. As the waves of satisfaction subsided, Roach practically melded into Ghost's body, his heart hammering into the other man's chest. However, Roach, momentarily uncertain that _that_ display had been a bit much, froze to peer up at his Lieutenant. However, Ghost took no notice of his pause. In response, perhaps aroused that Roach had come because of _him_, or simply eager for his own turn, Ghost thrust faster than ever into Roach, who although had gone rather flaccid, still enjoyed the hot friction produced between them. Something of a primal growl emerged from the back of Ghost's throat as he practically pinned Roach's back against the ice-cold tile wall decorating the interior of the communal shower. Roach, who was already showing the signs of arousal once more, groped Ghost from behind, ensuring maximum closeness as Ghost continued to pound against him, groaning with every intense impact. Finally, Ghost lurched his head back, straining his neck, inviting Roach to once more plant his mouth on the sensitive area, sucking away as he felt warm liquid smattering across his stomach and dripping down his legs. It was..._ simply indescribable_, knowing he had made Ghost react that way. The normally composed, stoic soldier, squirming, shuddering, slamming _him _until he found his release. While Roach had only found his release just minutes ago, the sight and sound of Ghost reaching climax was simply intoxicating enough to make his cock pulse with need once more.

"You're... always this easy to excite?" Ghost breathed, obviously noticing him.

"I enjoyed...you taking charge at the end. A lot," Roach murmured.

"I better finish what I started..." Ghost whispered, grabbing hold onto Roach's growing cock, sliding the foreskin back and forth until Roach was taut, his eyes clenched shut in ecstasy as Ghost stroked him once more to finish. It was less intense this time, as the waves of pleasure coursed through his insides as his every nerve-ending became cognizant of the sensation, but still utterly _enjoyable _as his release trickled onto Ghost.

Exhaling sharply, Ghost eased himself away from Roach, an iridescent smirk lighting up his features. Pecking one last kiss on Roach's lips, he approached the opposite end of the shower, turned on the tap, and washed away the evidence of Roach's pleasure.

If Ghost _had_ been rusty, Roach had hardly minded. He'd been rather abstinent himself for the most part since signing on with the one-four-one, aside from the occasional hook-up at a bar when he had leave once every six months or so. His last escapade, with a shy but handsome stranger from a predominately gay nightclub in Germany, was about roughly five months ago and had truthfully been less than satisfactory. Roach figured the man was simply experimenting during a brief period of confusion surrounding his sexual orientation, and wondered momentarily, with a slight panic, if Ghost was undergoing the same thing.

"Simon?" Roach asked, using the name tentatively, after they had both quickly rinsed and jumped back into their respective clothing. A little over an hour go, he had been fretting over if Ghost even _liked _him as a soldier, and now he had just been fucked by the man. How would he treat him now, with further avoidance and distance? Would it be awkward? Roach certainly didn't regret the boundary that they had just crossed, but he hoped that their working relationship would not suffer from it. Because prior to the sex, it seemed that they had finally reached an understanding.

Ghost cocked his head in Roach's direction, raising an eyebrow as if motioning him to continue.

"Did you... I mean, why did you- do you have any regrets?" Roach eventually sputtered, knowing he was blatantly being awkward. But really, was his confusion so unjustified? After all, his relationship with Ghost had just taken a very dramatic turn and he wanted to know the truth, even if it hurt him.

"Yes." He replied solemnly. Roach's breath hitched uncomfortably. "Only that I kept you out for so long." Further words or discussion were apparently unneeded, their bodies had expressed everything.

Roach had to fight off his shit-eating grin as a sense of elation coursed through his body- true happiness and gratitude that he hadn't felt in months- making him feel positively weightless and indestructible. Makarov would meet his end later today, and he had Ghost to watch his back to ensure the success of their survival. Roach's trust in his lieutenant was stronger than ever, and he truly felt confident about being second in command during the op because his partner respected him and was concerned about the safety of all of his men. His admiration wasn't one-sided as Roach had initially believed; his previous doubts and uncertainties regarding Ghost were in the past. Having spent so long dreaming of his approval, of seeking his acceptance, Roach had finally awoken from the dream to find it a reality. And it was better than any dream he could have concocted. Because Ghost had gained something from their experience too. A chance to find enjoyment in living and forging a relationship with someone, not only sexually, but as a confidant too.

"I'll leave first," Ghost stated, finally fully dressed, mask once more in place to maintain his facade. But Roach knew he had an image to uphold. "We've been in here for a while together. I imagine someone might be trying to find us." He was back to his old practical self. Roach knew that Ghost didn't intend to insult him, only believed it prudent to keep a low profile. Despite this Roach must have reacted in some way to indicate that he was somewhat hurt by the implication... that maybe Ghost _really_ was embarrassed about their recent activities.

"Never worry," Ghost stepped towards Roach, reaching out for his chin. He planted a rough kiss on Roach's mouth, assuring him that they had one another... not just now, but in the future to come. "I'll be watching your ass out there, Gary."


End file.
